Discovering the Tenderloin

I spent the weekend in Iowa.

I'm not quite sure where to start describing my weekend spent in Iowa....meeting J's family and friends? being greeted in Elkhart with a jumbo-sized bag of popcorn and an endless lawn sparkling with countless fireflies (that everyone else called "lightening bugs")? the farmhouse at the end of a dirt road, surrounded by lush oak trees and growing corn fields? the cake, and strawberries, and Blue Bunny vanilla ice-cream and coffee that greeted me at this farmhouse at the end of a dirt road, surrounded by lush oak trees and growing corn fields? skeet-shooting over bean fields? biking To Ware and Back? the pork ribs and rhubarb pie (J's grandma's recipe made by J's dad) that I feasted on the night before I biked To Ware and Back?

But this is/was intended to be a food blog, so I'll focus on merely describing my discovery of the Iowa "Tenderloin."

Delicious.

A slice of boneless pork loin - pounded, breaded, fried and served in the middle of a bun.

J's mom, having correctly observed her son's nostalgia for the tenderloin and her son's girlfriend's newly blossomed addiction to them, asked if there was any place in Alaska to get them. J. shook his head, winked at me, and announced we'd just have to learn how to make them from scratch ourselves.

I've already printed off 4 or so recipes to start from.